


A Friendly Game

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: The Other Regan [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonding over a game of strategy, strategically?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendly Game

“Gloat all you like, I have this one.”

“Are you sassing me, Commander? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Regan heard familiar voices across the courtyard. She’d come to collect herbs from the gardens; she hadn’t expected to see either of them here. Smiling to herself, she strolled over, wondering why she felt a twinge inside at the mere sight of him.

“Why do I even ….” Cullen looked up at the sound of a soft, familiar laugh and felt his stomach do a flip-flop. He stopped, mid-move and dropped the piece he’d just captured. “Inquisitor!” He shoved his chair back, nearly knocking it over.

Dorian stifled a laugh. “Leaving, are you?” He glanced down at the board and made a few movements while his opponent was distracted. “Does this mean I win?”

Cullen hovered awkwardly, half out of his seat. He looked from Regan to the board and back to Regan again, questioning.

“You two playing nice” she asked, feeling the tips of her ears burn. 

“I’m always nice,” Dorian teased, watching Cullen from the corner of his eye. 

“You don’t have to stop on my account.” She gestured toward the board, fully aware Cullen had not returned to his seat. She was far too aware of a lot of unimportant things and not nearly aware enough of the important ones when it came to him. 

Dorian smirked, turning his attention back to Cullen as the other man smiled awkwardly at the young woman and slowly sat back down. “You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory.”

Cullen flushed as Regan’s eyes lingered on him, clearing his throat awkwardly before looking back at the board. He chuckled softly, moving his piece to its final resting place. “Really? Because I just won, and I feel fine.”

Dorian almost managed to hide his surprise, almost. Grumpily, he shoved himself away from the table. “Don’t get smug. There’ll be no living with you.” He nodded toward Regan as he walked away, trying overly hard to look unconcerned about the loss.

“Don’t run off on my account, Dorian.” She rested a hand on his arm as she walked past. He shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at Cullen and grinning as he disappeared into the keep.

Cullen couldn’t stop smiling as Regan closed the distance, coming to stand next to the chess board. “I should return to my duties as well,” he murmured, not particularly wanting to leave. “Unless you would care for a game?” He gestured toward the now vacant chair and tried to hide how much he hoped she’d say yes. He was fairly certain he’d failed miserably, but it didn’t appear that she’d noticed. 

She glanced from him to the board to the chair and back to him again. With a confident nod, she took her seat. “Prepare the board, Commander.” Her smile was confident but if one looked closely, they would see the nervous tic in the corner of one eye. She flexed her fingers and tried to calm her pulse as she watched Cullen move the pieces back to their starting positions. “I take it you enjoy this game?”

“As a child, I played this with my sister,” Cullen explained, nodding. “She would get this stuck up grin whenever she won – which was all the time. You get first move.” He watched as her first piece slid across the board – a fairly common starting move. “My brother and I practiced for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won ….” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. How he missed those games. He made his first move, choosing to go for a somewhat unorthodox path. 

“You have siblings?” Regan asked, not sure why she was surprised. It really wasn’t that unusual. She had four siblings, after all. She idly moved another pawn into its new place and waited.

“Two sisters and a brother,” he replied, casually moving yet another piece across the board. “They moved from Honneleath to South Reach after the Blight. I … I do not write them as often as I should.” He looked up to see her eyes watching him, not his pieces, and flushed under her scrutiny. “I … you said you had siblings … four, correct?”

She nodded, smiling softly. “I do. I’m the youngest, by five whole minutes; something Tristan will never let me forget.” She finally decided where to move her next piece and almost felt guilty taking his first pawn. “Aaron is the oldest, followed by Weslyn, Gabriel, Tristan and myself.” She ticked her siblings off as she counted, noticing that Cullen hadn’t yet moved. She tapped his arm gently and pointed toward the board. “Tell me about your family?”

“Ah, it’s my turn?” he asked, somewhat surprised. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t paying attention. He glanced down at the board and hid a smile. She’d taken the first bit of bait. He started telling her about the time his brother had convinced him to play a prank on their sisters that had ended with all of them soaked to the bone. He may have been older, but the eager look in his brother’s eye had swayed him.

Time passed quickly as they played, each taking a piece here and there. She had managed to pry out several stories of his childhood during the game. While he had been far less successful, he didn’t mind in the slightest. “This may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition, or related matters.” He was surprised at how much it didn’t bother him, not thinking about the Inquisition or tasks that needed to be done. His games with Dorian were a welcome break, but they didn’t come close to this. “To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.”

It was hard to tell if she heard him, at first. She seemed so focused on the board, as if trying to plan out her next several moves. But then she brought her eyes up to look at him through her lashes and smiled. “As do I.” Her voice was soft, almost inaudible. She bit her lip and cleared her throat, then added, “We should spend more time together,” as she moved yet another piece across the board.

That … wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but that hadn’t been it. Not that he’d mind spending more time with her – he wanted nothing more than to do just that. He just hadn’t thought she would have wanted the same. But that look she gave him, it shot straight to his core, made things tighten and knot. “I would ….” He cleared his throat and took a breath. “I would like that.”

If she’d actually been facing him instead of hiding the majority of her face with the angle, he would have seen the blush that colored her cheeks. “Me too.” Her voice wavered only slightly, almost unnoticeable. She could feel her pulse racing again. Maker, she was behaving like a child.

It was like a punch in the gut – a good punch, if there was such a thing. She wanted to spend more time with him? He looked away, sure he was turning bright red. Why did she affect him so? Did she know what she was doing to him? Just her presence set him on edge in such a good way. “You said that,” he whispered, his voice betraying the sudden flash of want that tied his stomach in knots. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she looked up, bottom lip pinned beneath her teeth. Maker, he wanted to kiss those lips. “We … I … we should finish our game, right?” He glanced at the board, realizing he had no clue what path he’d been planning on taking. She was the last one who moved, right? “My turn?” He reached for the piece he thought he meant to move and went on, wondering how he had become quite so flustered. “Mind continuing the story you were telling in Redcliff?” They hadn’t really had much time together since they’d taken Dorian to meet his father, and he wanted to hear more.

“Oh, I never did finish that, did I?” she laughed softly, running her fingers through her hair nervously. Why was that look in his eye putting butterflies in her stomach? Why did she want to run her fingers through that hair, feel his arms around her? Maker’s breath, she had to start paying attention. “What had I been talking about again?” 

“Your … brother in the circle,” he prompted, watching her fingers toy with a pawn before moving to another piece and doing the same thing. He could just reach out, brush his fingers against hers. He wanted to; Maker how he wanted to. “And something to do with confusion?”

“Oh, right.” Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips and she tried to collect her thoughts. “I told you Gabriel and I looked alike, right?” When Cullen nodded, she tried to focus. “Gabriel is two years older than Tristan and I. Tristan and I are twins, but Gabriel could almost pass as another one of us, almost. People would always insist mother had triplets instead of twins when we were younger. So the people in charge at the Circle were always getting us confused. The apprentices and recruits weren’t much better. I can’t tell you how many times I had someone grab me, thinking I was my brother trying to sneak out by wearing armor.

“The last straw, I guess, was when another apprentice, some girl who had one class with Gabriel, couldn’t tell us apart – I think her name was Grace. She never once used his first name, or mine – always called us Trevelyan, or Trevie if she was feeling particularly clingy. She’d come up to me during breaks in the courtyard and flirt and I’d turn her down. As far as I know, Gabe turned her down too, but it never stopped her. Obviously, we never had a clue what she talked about when she was with the other and she wouldn’t believe us, or me anyway, when I tried to explain that I wasn’t Gabriel. 

“Well, that’s not entirely true.” Regan looked away, really hating herself for a moment. She had gone through a phase, that’s all it had been, but she hated that Regan. “I … I wasn’t always a very nice person when I was younger. At first, I would tell her I wasn’t Gabe, but the longer she went not listening, the more tired I got of repeating myself. So, I started playing along. I would flirt, get her hopes up, and leave it to the real Gabe to knock them down again. I just wanted her to leave me … us … alone. 

“Eventually, she got offended because I didn’t know what she was talking about, yet again – I found out later she’d asked Gabe to meet her behind the library for some alone time, like I had goaded her into doing. When he didn’t show, she went hunting for him, and found me while I was reviewing class notes with my female training partner. I wonder if her response would have been different if I’d been talking to one of the guys from class instead. At any rate, she accused me of playing with her heart, taking advantage of her innocence and all that fun stuff. She actually threw me across the hall when I denied doing anything of the sort – apparently she was studying force spells. It took two templars to finally get her under control. Even after they cut off her magic, she was trying to claw her way over, yelling how ‘I’ had ruined her life. 

“They sent her to another circle the next day- Starkhaven’s, I think. I’m not really sure which one; I didn’t really care, as long as it wasn’t where I would be. But they felt that her accusations weren’t something they could ignore. I … I took the blame, told them at least some of what she said was true. I didn’t want them blaming Gabe for anything; it wasn’t his fault she couldn’t take no for an answer. And we were afraid they’d punish him something fierce for it.” She looked at her hands and finally moved the pawn she’d been fingering. This was not her best game, but her focus wasn’t entirely on winning. “And, I guess you could say we did lead her on, at least a little – or I did. I mean, I could have done more to convince her I wasn’t Gabe. He could have done something, told someone, to get her to leave him alone. We could have made one trip to see her, both of us together, so she could see there were two of us … something.

“They kicked me out. Said I was a bad influence, a disruption. My mother wanted to take their side, believe their version of events, even after I explained to my parents what had happened. She did believe the templars until a letter from Gabriel made it through. She still wasn’t happy, though. It was just as well. I got in trouble, a lot, anyway. Apparently I couldn’t stay focused during class. They always did give me high marks during combat training, though – once they realized I fought better without a shield.” She shrugged, surprised to see him just watching her intently. Had he really just listened to the whole thing? “So that’s my story.”

“Do you and Gabriel still look that much alike?” Cullen asked. He hadn’t quite been expecting that kind of story. In his experience, most who drop out of templar training did so due to the rigorous physical demands or from being away from their families. She seemed to have no problems with the physicality of the training; it had just been bad luck and a case of mistaken identity.

“I … don’t know,” she answered quietly, looking away. “I haven’t seen him in years. We were supposed to meet at the Conclave, but … he didn’t show. Ostwick’s First Enchanter said he missed the caravan. No one had heard from him … I still haven’t.” She didn’t want to think about the possibility that he could have been killed during the rebellions. He was a strong mage, a talented one. He had to be alive, he just had to.

“I’m sure he’s all right, Regan.” Cullen frowned, kicking himself mentally. He’d known a sibling was a mage; she’d said as much before. Surely she would have introduced them, if she’d known where he was. The not knowing had to be killing her. “I … we … I can have Leliana send scouts out to find him? I’d offer my soldiers, but since many are former templars, I fear that may do more harm than good.” He was relieved to see a faint smile cross her face as she nodded, making a mental note to speak with Leliana as soon as humanly possible.

They continued to play in silence, stealing occasional glances at each other, looking away when the other noticed, turning various shades of pink. For a time, the only sounds were that of the birds in the courtyard, the people milling about or the pieces moving across the board. There was nowhere else she’d rather be, no one else he’d rather be with. But neither said a word, until ….

“And this one’s mine.” Cullen leaned back, smiling smugly as he plucked her king from the board. He hadn’t expected to win. There were several times when her pieces moved in a manner he hadn’t expected. He’d had to do some quick thinking to cut off her advances. At least she didn’t seem like she minded losing, too much.

“It seems like luck favored you today, Cu … Commander.” Regan wasn’t surprised she lost. She hadn’t been paying attention for at least half the game, and she was never that good at it anyway. Maker, she wished all these people weren’t around.

“So it has,” he replied, wishing she would stop using his title when people were around. He didn’t care if they heard her be so informal with him. He wanted that informality, that familiarity with her. It surprised him how much he wanted it. “Perhaps … you would enjoy another game, sometime?” Oh, good, he managed to get a personal sentence out that wasn’t stumbling all over itself.

“I … I would like that,” she murmured, ducking her head. “Maybe you could give me some lessons, so I don’t lose so spectacularly again?” She would look for any excuse to spend time with him, even relearning a game she hadn’t played in years. It was a wonder she remembered enough to muddle through one game.

“I look forward to it, Inquisitor.” He sighed, already hating the sound of that title. He wanted to call her by name; she was so much more than that title, than any title. He was about to say something else when a runner called out for his attention. It seemed some of his soldiers were in need of instructions. With a grimace, he pushed away from the table. “I fear I am needed elsewhere, my lady. I trust we can find a convenient time to begin lessons.”

“I look forward to it,” Regan murmured, watching him leave. Maker take her, even from this angle, he was worth watching; maybe especially from this angle. She shook her head, trying to free herself from thoughts she probably shouldn’t be having about him, but not really caring. He had said he would like to spend more time with her. She’d have to figure out how to arrange that.


End file.
